(From rare print by Crispin Pass. )
When Elizabeth of England was a simply-dressed princess instead of the elaborately got-up potentate into which she afterwards developed, she had the ill-luck to be suspected of aiming at her sister’s throne. In consequence, not only was she herself put into the Tower, but various friends of hers were arrested, among them a gentleman named Harrington. He was heavily fined, besides being imprisoned. When, however, a few years later, Elizabeth became queen, she did not forget her old adherent, and among other marks of favor, stood godmother to his son John, afterwards Sir John Harrington. The fortunate baby grew up into a handsome and entertaining young man, with such an aptitude for saying bright things that his reputation spread far and wide. A maid-servant at an inn waited very carefully on him, for fear that if he were neglected, he “would make an epigram of her.” Even the Queen used to speak of him as her “witty godson.” She probably had no idea his wit ever turned on her own foibles, as well as those of other people. That it did so, however, appears from his journal.
One item, remembering Elizabeth’s three thousand dresses, is especially amusing:
“On Sunday, my Lorde of London preachede to the Queene’s Majestie, and seemede to touch on the vanitie of deckinge the bodie too finely. Her Majestie tolde the Ladies that if the Bishope helde more discorse on such matters, she wolde fit him for Heaven, but he shoulde walke thither withoute a staffe, and leave his mantle behinde him; perchance the Bishope hathe never soughte her Highnesse wardrobe, or he wolde have chosen another texte.”
The same hobby that led her to number her own dresses by the thousand, and her wigs by the hundred, led her also to interfere with the clothes of her subjects. One gentleman wore a suit she did not like, and she spit upon it, to show her aversion; “Heaven spare me such jibinge!” says poor Sir John. In fact, although the Queen’s godson, he had to tread carefully at court! and King James’s easy rule must have been a relief to him. Especially did he enjoy the friendship of Prince Henry, to whom, in 1608, he wrote the famous letter about “Bungey.”
“Having good reason,” he says, “to thinke your Highnesse had goode will and likinge to reade what others have tolde of my rare dogge, I will even give a brief historie of his goode deedes and strannge feates; and herein will I not plaie the curr myselfe, but in good sooth relate what is no more nor lesse than bare verity. Although I meane not to disparage the deedes of Alexander’s horse, I will match my dogge against him for good carriage; for if he did not bear a great prince on his back, I am bold to saie he did often bear the sweet wordes of a greater princesse on his necke.
“I did once relate to your Highnesse after what sorte his tacklinge was wherewithe he did sojourn from my house to the bathe to Greenwiche Palace, and deliver up to the Courte there such matters as were entrusted to his care. This he hath often done, and came safe to the bathe, or my howse here at Kelstone, with goodlie returnes from such nobilitie as were pleasede to emploie him; nor was it ever tolde our ladie queene that this messenger did ever blab ought concerninge his highe truste, as others have done in more special matters. Neither must it be forgotten as how he once was sente withe two charges of sack wine from the bathe to my house, by my man Combe; and on his way the cordage did slackene, but my trustie bearer did now bear himselfe so wisely as to covertly hide one flasket in the rushes, and take the other in his teeth to the howse, after which he wente forthe, and returnede with the other parte of his burden to dinner; hereat your Highnesse may perchance marvel and doubte, but we have livinge testimonie of those who wroughte in the fields, and espiede his worke....
“I need not saie how muche I did once grieve at missinge this dogge, for on my journiee towardes Londone, some idle pastimers ... conveyed him to the Spanish ambassador’s, where in a happie houre after six weekes I did heare of him; but such was the Courte he did pay to the Don, that he was no less in good likinge there than at home. Nor did the howsehold listen to my claim ... till I rested my suite on the dogge’s own proofs, and made him performe such feates before the nobles as put it past doubt that I was his master. I did send him to the halle in the time of dinner, and made him bringe thence a pheasant out the dish, which created much mirthe, but muche more when he returnede at my commandment to the table again, and put it again in the same cover. Herewith the companie was well content to allowe me my claim, and we both were well content to accept it, and came homewardes....
“I will now saie in what manner he died. As we travelled towards the bathe, he leapede on my horse’s necke, and was more earneste in fawninge and courtinge my notice than what I had observed for time backe, and after my chidinge his disturbing my passinge forwards, he gave me some glances of such affection as movede me to cajole him; but alass he crept suddenly into a thorny brake, and died in a short time.
“Thus I have strove to rehearse such of his deedes as maie suggest much more to youre Highnesse’ thought of this dogge. Now let Ulysses praise his dogge Argus, or Tobite be led by that dogge whose name doth not appeare, yet could I say such things of my Bungey, for so he was styled, as might shame them bothe, either for good faith, clear wit, or wonderful deedes; to saie no more than I have said of his bearing letters to London and Greenwiche more than an hundred miles. As I doubte not but your Highnesse would love my dogge if not myself, I have been thus tedious in his story, and againe saie, that of all the dogges near your father’s courte, not one hathe more love, more diligence to please, or less pay for pleasinge, than him I write of....